


For All of His Life

by hhsurrey



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:07:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23407273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hhsurrey/pseuds/hhsurrey
Summary: A few days after Glenn's funeral, Sylvain decided to drop by the Fraldarius mansion in the capital. His friends had all been cooped up in Fhirdiad as Rodrigue was helping to settle the new royal household, and Sylvain was finding himself rather bored.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is basically in-universe for FE3H, though I've aged up our characters a bit. I just don't like the idea of teens going to war in their eventual academy years... I'm thinking Felix and Sylvain are around 16 in this scene.
> 
> I have a few other stories planned for our guys, so if you enjoyed this, encourage me :)

It had not been long since they had buried Glenn’s sword in the Blaiddyd family mausoleum. Glenn had died in the battle of Duscur, off his horse amid the chaos, an axe ripping into his chest as he raised his sword to shield the royal family. He wasn’t supposed to, but Felix had gotten a glimpse of his brother’s white corpse as his aides were carrying out and piling all his belongings around him in a clearing on the Fraldarius estate. Felix had thought Glenn looked like marble. Tradition was that fallen knights would have their bodies burned along with all of their belongings in life, save their weapons, which would be entombed in dedicated marble boxes sealed with wax within their liege’s family resting place. The knight’s possessions were an offering to the goddess, and their ashes were not privileged, just scattered onto their own family’s land. As Felix hid himself in some brush to watch his brother while their servants built up the pyre, it chilled him to think that the day they had forged Glenn’s blade, they had also made the box that would seal it up.

Sylvain had watched Felix at the entombment ceremony, as he had been watching him for as long as either of them could remember. Felix took the role of chief mourner, as the family’s new heir, and his eyes never wavered as he greeted dozens of nobles in the Blaiddyd court. Occasionally he tugged at one of his white gloves, and while his father gave a spartan eulogy, Felix loosened and retied his hair so he would look immaculate whenever anyone looked to him again. But his posture never relaxed, and his eyes stayed clear and sharp throughout that day.

Sylvain recognized his friend’s immaculate appearance as one outward manifestation of his overall discipline, and he thought sadly of how fast Felix had been clinging to that discipline in the past weeks. The day after Glenn’s death, Felix was back in the training yard near sunrise, and he had scolded the other soldiers who had come in later, eyes red, for having made him wait. Very soon thereafter, Ingrid was joining him for daily training, too, and Sylvain noticed that they conversed easily, exactly as they always had, but never strayed to any topic beyond weapon maintenance or fighting technique. Sylvain was only with them as often as he was because he felt he had to be, not because he particularly felt like training. He watched Felix as much as he ever lifted his lance or took his horse out to go through its paces, and he saw the pain in Felix’s eyes when Felix thought no one was watching.

A few days after the ceremony, Sylvain decided to drop by the Fraldarius mansion in the capital. They had all been cooped up in Fhirdiad as Rodrigue was helping to settle the new royal household, and Sylvain was finding himself rather bored. He had bought a honey layer cake as an excuse, and a gag; Felix always claimed that he hated sweets, but Sylvain didn’t take him at his word, so whenever the mood for cake would strike Sylvain they had an excuse to eat one together. Sylvain gave his usual shiver after an attendant had let him into the mansion’s front hall, peering around at the dark wood paneling and black upholstery and feeling the house was altogether too formal and somber. He stepped lightly up the front staircase anyway, though, as he was eager to check on his friend.

At the landing, he saw Rodrigue emerge from his study, and as Rodrigue smiled Sylvain gamely called, “How now, my lord!” Rodrigue was always pleased to see Sylvain at his home, and today he told him so. They chatted like family, Sylvain boasting about odd accomplishments like dancing with many noble ladies at the feast for the Prince Regent or winning the training knights’ joust for the past three fortnights. Rodrigue enjoyed Sylvain’s light spirit and easy charm, so he doted on him indulgently. Noticing the cake Sylvain was clutching to his side, Rodrigue recovered a bit of formality, saying “I mustn’t keep you from visiting with my son.” He smiled, a bit sadly, and added, “You’re welcome here any time, for as long as you like. Your presence does my son a lot of good. He needs your influence now, so he doesn’t live entirely in his own head.”

Sylvain nodded and shook Rodrigue’s hand with both of his to take his leave. He shuffled down the hallway, grabbing a candle out of one of the sconces as it was even darker than usual in that house due to the rain clouds outside. He turned down one hall, then another, before he arrived at Felix’s door in the eastern wing. Knocking just as a courtesy, Sylvain breezed into his friend’s room and started into a light conversation. He mentioned the cake, which he set on the first available table, and he groused about the terrible weather, saying he thought his boots would never dry. Felix was stretched across a dark leather sofa, staring out at the rain, and he didn’t even take the energy to roll his eyes as he said shortly, “Not now, Sylvain.”

Over the many years of their friendship, Sylvain had learned when to shut up, so he did. He settled in near Felix, perching on an ottoman, and as he sat he noticed that Felix’s face was ashen and streaked with tears. His demeanor shifted immediately, and in a softer voice he said, “I can leave if you want, Felix. Or I could just sit here, and you don’t have to talk for a while. Or at all.” Felix stared for a while into the distance behind Sylvain, then turned his head into the couch because he felt Sylvain watching his face. He began to cry, though, and while he made no noise, occasionally his whole body tensed, cringing to smother a sob. Sylvain’s heart hurt, and he put a hand on his friend’s shoulder as he hung his own head. They sat like that for a while, and the only thing Sylvain could hear was the rain.

Eventually, Felix reached up to pat Sylvain’s hand. He slowly shifted to face him, but it wasn’t long before he slumped and put his face in his hands. Sylvain gingerly stood up to fetch a blanket, which he threw over Felix’s lap since he knew how easily his friend would run cold. “Talk to me, Felix,” Sylvain urged gently. “I’ve got all the time you need.”

“I’m just so… angry,” Felix said. Sylvain nodded. “…Will I ever be less angry? It doesn’t feel like it. I’ve been angry since that morning, when my father let Glenn go into that fight. I’ve only gotten angrier. He doesn’t even seem to regret that Glenn died, since it was an ‘honorable death.’ What horseshit.”

Felix ranted that he couldn’t understand why any ideals would be worth dying for. No ideal was worth more than a person. Throughout all of this, he was realizing that no one else seemed to value Glenn as a person, just as an heir or a soldier or a subject. He couldn’t talk with Ingrid about it; “she eats that noble knight shit up,” Felix glowered, as Sylvain grinned in agreement. And besides that, he knew she had to figure out how to feel about Glenn’s death, too. She seemed like she was just getting used to the idea of marrying his older brother, who was like her older brother too, and Glenn had always encouraged her ambitions to be a knight. Felix understood that it felt harder for her to become a knight now, without Glenn’s support and with a new burden to be married off by her family as soon as was prudent.

“I wouldn’t have guessed you’d understand Ingrid so well, Felix,” Sylvain said, amused. “You always give her such a hard time, like you give all of us, I guess. But it seems like you’ve thought a lot about how to help her handle it.”

“How are you handling it, though?” Sylvain continued. “What would help you out?”

“I don’t know yet… I just… miss him. I had never thought about him not being here. He was the best person I knew, and I only knew how to be a soldier by being like him. But if he was willing to go into that fight, to die for someone else because he felt like he had to… I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know if I even want to train as a swordsman anymore. I just want my brother back.”

Sylvain nodded and squeezed Felix’s shoulder. After a moment, Felix glanced up at Sylvain and added, “You know, I kept something of Glenn’s. This.” He pointed at the purple ribbon in his hair. Sylvain’s eyes widened, but then he smiled conspiratorially. “What’s gotten into you, Felix? How did you get to keep that? Isn’t that blasphemy?”

“I don’t believe in any of that shit. When we die, we just go away. If there’s a goddess that cares about humans at all—I’m not so sure—she certainly doesn’t need ashes of people’s things. This looks like something I already had, or that anyone could have. I just wanted something to remember Glenn by, that’s all.”

Sylvain couldn’t help but smile a bit at Felix’s protective growl over his keepsake. It looked fine in his indigo hair, which he had been growing out and made him look quite handsome, elegant but intense like he would get in training. His eyes had something like their usual glow again, and Sylvain felt how all together striking Felix was in his self-possession. Sylvain leaned over just slightly from his seat across from Felix, giving him a simple, soft but lingering kiss. When he finally drew away, Felix looked at him intensely, without betraying any clear emotion, and Sylvain just looked back. Then Felix seemed to make up his mind, fixed his expression into a stoic confidence, and pulled Sylvain firmly towards him by his collar.

Sylvain matched Felix’s intensity quickly, a smile playing at the edges of his lips as he kissed him. He held Felix by the back of the neck as he leaned him back onto the couch, throwing one leg over Felix’s hips and settling onto him. Felix felt the strength of Sylvain’s thigh pressed along his, and although he knew the shape of his friend’s body from training together for so long, he was surprised by how stable, firm yet graceful Sylvain was all over. He liked how Sylvain’s sharp jaw ground against his as he kissed him firmly. He wondered whether Sylvain had always smelled this good, as he noticed the renewed scent of his skin, vetiver and lavender, each way they moved together. Sylvain’s lips parted, and Felix felt desire wash over him as he tried moving his tongue against Sylvain’s. Sylvain kept pace with that, too, and Felix tried to focus while it felt like he might go out of his mind.

Felix reached up to his hair and Sylvain eventually broke away from their kiss as he noticed Felix struggling to untie the ribbon. His long hair was getting mussed as well as hot against him as they had lay there, and Sylvain smiled at how intense Felix looked as he tried to free himself of that distraction. “Just wait a minute—I’ve got it,” Sylvain said as he held Felix against him to stop his struggling. Felix watched Sylvain’s soft eyes as his friend was focused on his hair, gently untying it and taking care not to pull. Once the ribbon was free, Felix pressed both palms into the couch to raise himself up. He snatched the ribbon from Sylvain’s hand as Sylvain sat lower across his legs, and he made to throw it away from them, impatient to focus again on what they had been doing. Sylvain caught his hand, though, and tucked some of Felix’s hair behind his ear as he looked over his face. He took Felix’s hand in both of his, prizing the ribbon out, and then he set to tying the ribbon around Felix’s wrist. “This doesn’t belong on the floor,” he said simply while intent on the task.

Felix tilted his head, admiring how good Sylvain was at all of this. He felt competitive, so he turned slightly to try kissing Sylvain’s neck. “Hmmmm,” Sylvain hummed, pleased, as Felix placed many slow kisses against his throat, along his jaw, and below his ear. Sylvain pulled the final knot taut against Felix’s wrist and then gasped, his tone a little higher in surprise, as Felix kissed and ran his tongue along his ear. Felix was thrilled, sensing that he had gotten past Sylvain’s guard of experience and the confidence of having made the first move. Felix continued just a while longer, teasing, before leaning back to behold the effect he had had on his friend. Sylvain was flushed but managed to ask coyly, “Where did you learn that?”

Felix held Sylvain in a piercing gaze as he said, “Did you think you’d be the only one full of ideas here?” Sylvain grinned broadly and laughed before Felix threw him back against the couch and leaned against him.

—


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvain didn’t walk so much as he floated back to his family’s house in the capital the next morning. The sky was grey but glowing, the sun not yet burning off the layer of clouds in those early morning hours. Felix had risen early, as always, to get to training just before the sun was up. While Sylvain wanted nothing more than to stay by his friend’s side all day, he knew he had his own duties to attend to at home.
> 
> Dew settled on Sylvain’s skin as he walked, which felt refreshing as he had only washed his face and tamed his hair before leaving the Fraldarius house that morning. He kind of liked the damp on his neck, as he was replaying the night before in his mind. It was too satisfying that Felix had responded immediately to his advance, which had been a few years in the making for Sylvain. If he thought deeply about it, Sylvain understood that his attachment to Felix, his fascination with him, had only ever grown over all of the years of their friendship; in retrospect it seemed so obvious that it would bloom this way as they were becoming adults.
> 
> He felt lightheaded as he envisioned them together as they had been in Felix’s room last night...

Sylvain didn’t walk so much as he floated back to his family’s house in the capital the next morning. The sky was grey but glowing, the sun not yet burning off the layer of clouds in those early morning hours. Felix had risen early, as always, to get to training just before the sun was up. While Sylvain wanted nothing more than to stay by his friend’s side all day, he knew he had his own duties to attend to at home.

Dew settled on Sylvain’s skin as he walked, which felt refreshing as he had only washed his face and tamed his hair before leaving the Fraldarius house that morning. He kind of liked the damp on his neck, as he was replaying the night before in his mind. It was too satisfying that Felix had responded immediately to his advance, which had been a few years in the making for Sylvain. If he thought deeply about it, Sylvain understood that his attachment to Felix, his fascination with him, had only ever grown over all of the years of their friendship; in retrospect it seemed so obvious that it would bloom this way as they were becoming adults.

He felt lightheaded as he envisioned them together as they had been in Felix’s room last night—he could practically feel the shape of his friend in his arms. They had stayed up together over many late nights just talking, which had given Sylvain a not-dissimilar heady feeling in the satisfaction of being Felix’s only confidant and in getting to know his fascinating friend so well. They had talked and laughed last night, too, by turns whispering what one desired next or confessing deeper feelings as they had to pause and just look at each other. But for most of the night, lips and hands suggested new activities. The Sylvain that was walking those morning streets felt a throb below his hips, and he shook his whole body to try to settle down. The image of them in Sylvain’s mind shifted then, and he could see Felix nestled against him, sleeping curled up together as they hadn’t done since they were small. He thought that he could get quite used to this, and his mind started to wander over when and how they might spend more time together soon.

It was in this good mood that Sylvain crossed through the open gates at the Gautier residence, and there he saw his brother Miklan charging toward him. Miklan was wearing almost his full suit of armor as he stormed up, and he grunted as he shot his helmet at Sylvain in a chest pass.

“Oof, where was this strength yesterday?” Sylvain teased. They had sparred in the afternoon, before Sylvain had headed out, full of energy, to buy the cake and visit Felix, and in their brotherly contest Sylvain had entirely triumphed. They had cycled through their usual exercises in grappling and short axe, in which Sylvain was used to prevailing, but in their joust Sylvain had unhorsed Miklan for the first time in training together. Sylvain even got his lance to his brother’s throat before backing off with a sportsmanly laugh. He had leaped off his horse and reached out a hand to help Miklan up, but Miklan had pushed him away, never meeting his eyes before he stormed off. Sylvain had seen then that their father had been watching. Even though he knew Miklan would probably still be sore about the loss, especially one under their father’s unsparing watch, Sylvain couldn’t help but razz him a bit.

“Fuck off,” Miklan pronounced, his face lurching toward Sylvain’s for a moment as he kept walking. “Seriously, Sylvain, fuck right off.”

“Whoaaaaa,” Sylvain called at his brother’s back. “Go cool off and you can try me again later, if you’re going to take it that hard.”

“Like hell I will.”

Sylvain had to just shrug as he watched his brother storming off to the stables. Then he carried the helmet in with him as he went to find their father, to see if he had any orders for him that day. He found Margrave Gautier in his study, where the imposing, broad and muscled man was quickly writing orders and whipping them over to his valet as they were finished. It had been awhile since Sylvain saw his father quite so busy, even after the tragedy at Duscur. Gautier had always been the brawn and Fraldarius the brain of the King’s inner circle, and after wrapping up a few swift raids to settle the northern territories, Gautier had come to the capital mostly to drink and chase court ladies while awaiting further instructions from the Prince Regent.

“What’s going on, old man?” Sylvain asked as he watched his father cautiously. “Anything you need me to help with?”

“I’m going to need you to grow up and start becoming the man of this house, Sylvain,” his father said gruffly as he kept his eyes on his task. “I sent your brother away this morning. He is no longer a Gautier.”

“… Wait. What?”

“You heard me,” Margrave Gautier continued. “It was bound to happen soon enough—we could not have that weakling inheriting our house. He can’t fight and certainly can’t lead our men to handle our family’s designated tasks on the border. His embarrassing performance in your training yesterday made this clear to me. While you were gone, I’ve arranged for him to retire to our most isolated estate, where he can do no harm to himself or our honor, and I’ve stripped him of his title.”

Sylvain felt this announcement almost physically, and he reeled back on his heels. “Wait, Father, this is so sudden. I’m only sixteen. You’re still young and healthy for a man of a noble family, and anyway, Miklan is truly skilled in diplomacy. He can help you, while I still have to prepare—”

“Know your place, boy,” Margrave Gautier boomed, looking up from his correspondence to pin Sylvain to the wall with his gaze. “Who are you to tell me to wait? Nothing is ever certain. I became the leader of this house when I was even younger than you, and your brother was born to me at your age, that disappointment. You know this. 

“Get your head out of the clouds, get serious about your knight’s training instead of walking around and spending the night out whenever you care to. Unless you’re out bedding a wench who might give you an heir, stay in my sight, and I’m going to make something of you.”

Sylvain felt sick. He wanted to protest, but before he could, another attendant rushed in to speak with his father. “Miklan took his men, their horses, and the Sacred Relic as he left, my Lord,” the man reported. Gautier shook the room as he stood up from his desk. 

“Shit,” he growled, “he can’t even use the thing. Send some men to keep an eye on him, though. And you, Sylvain, heed my words. Your instructors are ready at the training yard to help you make quicker progress. You’re becoming a knight this month or I’m going to make you regret that Crest I gave you.”

His father stormed out, and Sylvain finally slumped against the wall. All of the plans he had been daydreaming about that morning, all about Felix, seeped out of his mind. He had grown up knowing that his life would take the course his family set for him, but this was the first day he truly regretted that fact. He could see no way to avoid it, so he started getting his mind right to get to training, where he knew he wouldn’t have to think at all.

_________

A few days later, Sylvain met Felix as well as Dimitri and Ingrid at the royal court’s training grounds. This was only the second week that Dimitri had rejoined them after the death of his parents, so Sylvain knew he couldn’t wriggle out of it; he had to be seen supporting the Prince, and he truly wanted to support his friend, anyway. When his turn came to spar with Felix, he tried hard not to look as sheepish as he felt.

“I’d ask where you’ve been, but now I can guess as much,” Felix muttered, nodding toward Margrave Gautier watching from the gallery. “I heard about your brother, too. I’m sorry.”

“Eh,” Sylvain shrugged, hoping that would make him feel more nonchalant, too. But he didn’t really.

“Okay then,” Felix said. They practiced in silence for a while. Before he knew it, Sylvain felt himself relaxing into the flow of training with his friend. He studied Felix’s every move, as he always learned something new from the force of his friend’s attacks or Felix’s light footwork avoiding his own. Sylvain’s heart even softened a bit as he watched Felix tucking in a strand of hair as they paused between drills, and he realized his face must have betrayed his thoughts as Felix looked at him out of the side of his eyes and smiled.

“How much longer have you got in the real world,” Felix whispered. “Before your father tries to make you a marionette.”

“He’s already working on it,” Sylvain muttered. “He wants me to become a knight as soon as possible. He keeps talking about me ‘shooting out some heirs,’ too. It’s revolting.”

“Huh.” Felix checked that Sylvain was on guard, and then he struck at him hard, throwing him back a step. Sylvain had to shake his head to clear it, but when he looked up again he saw Felix smiling. Sylvain got his feet under him and charged back, sparks flying off his sword as he threw a quick combination at Felix, who parried it easily. It looked impressive, though, and they both heard a loud clap from Margrave Gautier, who was still watching while he stood around planning the kingdom’s defense with a few of the other heads of houses present.

Sylvain and Felix laughed together as they made a show of sparring intensely. Sylvain felt natural in his body again as he began to sweat and took turns either throwing off Felix’s attack or throwing his friend to the ground. At one point, as he reached down to pull Felix to his feet, Felix said quietly, “Whatever happens, we’ve still got each other. You know you’ve still got me, right?”

“Yeah,” Sylvain whispered, their faces close. “You’ve got me, too.”

They walked over to rack their swords and rest a while before another exercise. As they both breathed heavily and Sylvain mopped his face with a handkerchief, Sylvain continued: “I know we’re in the same boat. We’re not the first to have to figure out how to live in this messed up system. I’ll need your help, but I know we’ll be okay.”

“No doubt. Life is long,” Felix said. “Or at least, I’ll make sure of it. We promised when we were young that we wouldn’t die without each other. And actually, I want to live through a lot with you.”

Sylvain couldn’t say anything coherent to that, so he just punched Felix in the shoulder before pulling him in, and they walked arm in arm to their next task.


End file.
